


Witch Hunt

by forgetfulelephant



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Blood, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of things get broken, Luka's a witch, Slow Burn, Witches, like hearts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetfulelephant/pseuds/forgetfulelephant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a witch in the forest. Everybody knew that. No-one entered the forest - not the living, not the dead.</p>
<p>In which Miku hunts down her father's murderer - but all is not as it seems. Who is the cute witch who supposedly killed her father? Who REALLY killed her father? When Miku winds up living with said cute witch, what fate will befall them both? And where does love come in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two fics at one time??? What could go wrong???

There was a witch in the forest. Everybody knew that. No-one entered the forest - not the living, not the dead.

Nobody knew where in the forest the witch lived, just that she lived there - and oh, how the people in the village longed to know where in the forest the witch lived. If that knowledge was commonplace, then the villagers were sure that by now, the witch would long be dead.

Except she wasn't, and so no-one entered the forest - not the living, nor the dead.

It was almost as if nobody wanted to find out. If the villagers could just put that particular problem to the back of their minds, then maybe everything would be okay. The witch could just stay in the forest, the villagers in the village, and everybody would be happy. Except that nobody was happy. Not the living, not the dead.

* * *

 

At the edge of the forest, as close to the trees as one dared, a girl lived alone. She hated the witch, more than anyone in her village. A long time ago, her father had ventured into the forest; he wanted to rid the people of their terror - and kill the witch. He failed, and became the last man ever to try. Now, nobody dares search for his murderer. Not the living. Nor the dead.

Except the girl. Bent on avenging her father's death, she packed a small bag with a few possessions and set out into the murky woods. Her teal hair was pulled into pigtails either side of her head, and it stood out starkly - too bright against the darkness of the forest.

She was Hasune Miku, and she was going to kill the witch that murdered her father. Determination pulsed through her veins. Nobody would stop her, not the living, nor the dead.

* * *

 

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch_ , went the leaves under her boots. _Snap_ , went the occasional twig. Miku adjusted her bag against her back nervously. _Shff, shff, shff,_ went her skirts as she walked through the forest.

 _Why did I wear a skirt for this?_ Miku wondered, her eye twitching as the offending skirt snagged on a passing branch. She pulled at it irritably - then watched in horror as it ripped, thorns on the branch easily tearing through the fabric. Miku cursed loudly, and a few birds overhead burst into flight at the sudden sound of her voice.

She hadn't really counted on her skirt ripping. She'd expected this to be a quick job, that she find the witch's lair easily, burn it down, spill as much of the witch's blood as possible, and be home in time for dinner. Now, she saw that that was a foolish notion. Miku had been in the damned forest for two hours now, and not a trace of witch was to be seen.

She stopped walking. Her skirt stopped _shff shff-_ ing, twigs stopped snapping and leaves stopped crunching under her feet. She looked at a tree close to her contemplatively for a second, beforw drawing her fist back and slamming it into the trunk as hard as she could. Her fist made an odd, sickening _crunch_ ing sound and Miku's shrill scream split the air. Pain shot through her hand and she cradled it, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"What am I doing?" she muttered through gritted teeth as she nursed her (probably broken) hand. _I don't belong here,_ she thought. Only two hours in and she already had ripped skirts and a broken hand. How was she supposed to kill a witch if she couldn't even get through the forest _to_ the witch? Miku fought back tears, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her hand.

"Maybe I should just... give up," she whispered. Her head suddenly shot up. "No," she said. "No. I am not giving up. I am not stopping until..."

_Until that witch is dead._

And so she continued. Leaved crunched, twigs snapped and her ripped skirt continued to _shff shff shff_ as Miku walked on and on through the seemingly endless forest.

She continued to ignore the pain in her hand. She also continued to ignore the increasingly uneasy feeling in her stomach as she trod on. How long had it been now? Three hours? Four? She didn't know.

Hunger gnawed on her stomach, and she pulled a wrapped piece of bread out of her bag and ate it, the continued walking, crumbs dusted to the floor.

She was so tired. Every step hurt, every breath exhausted her more.

Eventually, she reached a clearing. A woman - a girl - was stood in the middle of it with a basket full of flowers. Miku stopped. The girl looked only slightly older that Miku herself, and so she found herself wondering just who this girl was and what she was doing alone in the depths of the forest. The girl straightened up, and looked directly at Miku, her mouth immediately forming an 'O'. Her pink hair fell over her shoulders as her back straightened, and Miku stared at it, at this girl. Who was she?

Miku took a step forwards, stumbling slightly as a wave of exhaustion-induced dizziness overwhelmed her. The girl reached out with her arms, as if to catch her, but she was too far away.

With a jolt, Miku noticed the cottage that peeked out from beyond the clearing, and realised that this girl must live here. She opened her mouth to ask the girl if she knew of a witch living around here, when it hit her. This girl - this _witch_ \- this was the one who killed her father.

All exhaustion forgotten, Miku saw red. Fumbling with the dagger tied around her belt, she managed to free it, and held it in a hand trembling with rage. She sprinted across the clearing, adrenalin fueling her sudden desire to cut this girl's throat out.

All of a sudden, Miku was on her, dagger slashing down in an arc. The witch caught her hand, taking a few steps back. Her eyes were wide with what looked like fright, but the teal-haired girl didn't care as she continued to attack with a frenzy. She kicked out and caught the witch on the shin with her boot, and the witch staggered and cried out. She tried to say something to Miku, but Miku was so consumed with rage that she heard none of it as she struggled to pull her hand out of the witch's grasp.

"Let go of me," Miku spat. "Get your filthy hands off me, you witch, you _murderer_!" Finally freeing her wrist, she stabbed the knife down, but it missed, and simply tore the witch's sleeve. "Why won't you LET... ME... _KILL... YOU_?!" Miku punctuated each word with a slice of her weapon, but each missed its mark until the last, which cut a line down the witch's torso. Blood bloomed through her dress like a red flower, standing out amongst the green.

Miku went white, and she tasted bile in the back of her throat. _Maybe I really don't belong out here,_ she thought, dropping her blood-stained dagger to the ground.

She'd just hurt someone, badly. Was this the first time she'd ever inflicted a wound like this? She didn't know. _It's too late to back out of it now,_  she thought, and tried to pick up her knife. The world chose that moment to spin wildly, though, and Miku fell with it, down, down, down into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter, just to get this bit out of the way hehe

When Miku awoke, she was laid down on a bed. Briefly, she wondered if she'd simply had a very strange dream, until a painful twinge in her broken hand reminded her of the events of the previous day.

Carefully, she sat up, noting that her broken hand had been wrapped tightly in a bandage and set, and that the rip in her dress had been mended. Had that been the witch, to mend her and sew up her skirts? How odd.

But where was the witch now? Miku looked around the room. It was rather small, and notably witch-less. She breathed a sigh of relief. The witch wasn't here. That meant that, in the time Miku had before the witch inevitably came back, she could come up with a plan to kill her. She looked around the room, fixing her messy pigtails with her one unbroken hand. The room was small and cluttered, filled with all manner of objects. Shelves groaned under the weight of vases of flowers, jars and pots, and herbs littered almost every surface. The occasional candle could be seen, some tall and full, others dripping wax, all unlit.

An idea sparked in Miku's mind and she slid out of bed. Before she could reach a candle, though, a wave of dizziness overcame her and she dropped suddenly to her knees. The door swung open, and she internally cursed and swore as someone - the witch - walked into the room.

"You're awake! Are you alright?" The witch knelt down next to her. "You shouldn't be up, you need bedrest -"

"Shut up," snarled Miku, shoving herself up off the floor. "I don't need rest! What I need is to kill you!" She grabbed the nearest empty jar and flung it at the witch with all her might.

She caught it easily. "But why? Why do you want me dead so badly?" The pink-haired witch stood and looked at Miku.

"Why?" Miku's voice rose. " _Why do you care?!"_

"Because I don't want to be dead," the witch cried, and caught the next item that was flung at her - a potted plant. Soil cascaded from the pot, dirtying the floor.

"My father didn't want to be dead, either!" Seizing a tall candle from a shelf, she hurled it at her father's murderer.

The witch dropped the jar to catch the candle, and it fell to the floor and shattered. "What are you talking about? I haven't killed anyone!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying to you!" She dropped both the candle and the potted plant onto the floor. The pot smashed just as the jar did. "Listen to me! I am very sorry about what happened to your father, but I tell you _, I am not his murderer_." She took a step towards Miku. "This forest holds a lot of dangers. Any kind of fate may have befallen your father! You have to listen and understand what I'm saying! Do you see any weapons in this room? Torture items? What reason do I have to hurt anyone?"

Although Miku saw the truth in her words, she didn't want to believe it. "Why should I trust you? How do I know you're not lying to me?" She seized another jar from the shelf. "You _did_ kill him, I _know_ you did! There's no point in denying it!" The witch dodged out of the way as Miku threw the jar, and it smashed against the wall, shards dusting the floor. "What did you do with his body, eh? _Burn_ it?" She grabbed a jar. " _Bury_ it?" And another jar. " _Cut it up_ and use it in one of those disgusting _potions_ of yours?" She threw the jars.

One of them hit the witch on the shoulder, and she backed up. She trod on the shards and her blood stained the floor, but she didn't seem to care. "It wasn't me," she pleaded, holding her hands out in front of her, palms facing outwards - as if Miku was a savage hound. "You're hurt, just let me help you!"

"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!" Miku screamed. "I want... I want.. _. I just want my father back_..." This last part was barely a whisper, and her eyes filled with tears that she couldn't stop from streaming down her face.

The witch didn't hesitate. Stepping forwards over broken glass, she wrapped her arms around the distraught girl, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "I know," she murmured.

Miku didn't push her away.

"I'm not just a witch, and I'm not your father's murderer. My name is Megurine Luka, and I swear to you, I will help you. I promise that your father will not go unavenged."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *shoves this Disgusting and Too Short chapter at you* here you go you gay trash lords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *suffers*

"Why are you helping me? You're a witch. You should be burning. I could burn you and your house right now. I could kill you. I should kill you. Even if you didn't kill my father, you're dabbling in black magic. You shouldn't exist."

"Mhm," said Luka. She put a cup of tea in front of Miku.

Miku stared down into it, fiddling with the bandage around her broken hand. "Why am I still here? I should've left hours ago."

"You like to externalize your thoughts, don't you?" Luka said with a chuckle.

"Shut up."

"Just thought I'd point it out."

"Well, don't."

"Sorry. I'll let you get back to your monologuing now."

Miku fell silent for a while, then: "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am." She got up from the table. "I failed to do what I set out to do, so now I see no point in staying."

"Sit down, and drink your tea. It'll go cold."

"I don't care."

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow you to leave."

"Why not?"

"Because you know I'm a witch," said Luka simply. "I can't have you telling the entire village my whereabouts, I'd be ashes before you could say 'abracadabra'!"

Miku flinched.

"Sorry. It was just a joke. You really don't like witches, do you?"

"My father was killed by one," said Miku, looking pointedly at Luka.

"I have told you-"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware."

"That's good. So sit down, and drink your tea."

Miku sat down, but hesitated when it came to the tea, staring into the chipped mug doubtfully.

"It's not poisoned, you know."

"Right, of course," she commented sarcastically, but took a sip of the tea anyway. It wasn't half bad. "So, what now? Are you just going to keep me captive here?"

"No. I have a bargain to strike with you."

Miku nearly choked on her tea. "What? What could a witch want from me?"

"Well," said Luka, setting down her own cup of tea, "it's this. I will help you find your father's murderer. Something tells me that you won't give up trying to avenge him, and that something also tells me that I could be of some help with that."

"What's that catch?"

"There is no catch. Simply this: I want you to keep me hidden. Do not tell any of the villagers my whereabouts, that is all I ask. Does that sound fair to you?"

Miku considered it. One one hand, the witch needed to be - put bluntly - burnt on a stake. On the other hand, this witch was offering her valuable help. And, with the witch helping her, it would make it so easy for Miku to find proof that Luka had actually killed her father. For her gut instinct still told her that this witch was the murderer, and all Miku had to go by was her gut instinct. "I accept."

"Wha- you do?" Luka seemed taken aback.

"You seem surprised."

"I was expecting to have to do some persuading," she explained, "but I was wrong. For all your mistrust of me, you really are intent on finding your father's killer, aren't you?"

"Yes. And you are not off my list of suspects, so watch your step."

"'List of suspects'? What, you have more than one?"

Miku flushed, and said nothing.

Sighing, Luka said: "I'm your only suspect, aren't I? Thinking about it, that doesn't actually come as a surprise."

Miku continued to be silent, and took another drink of her (quickly cooling) tea.

"Well, we'll get some more suspects soon, I _suspect_." Luka grinned.

Miku glared at her. "That was the worst - the _worst_ \- I can't _believe_ -"

"I'm a triple threat," said Luka. "A witch, an outcast, and a maker of terrible puns. I've been living alone for so long now with only a cat to tell puns to that they've all built up inside me. You'll have to put up with them, I'm afraid."

Miku put her head in her hands. "What have I gotten myself into," she mumbled.

_Nothing good_ , she thought to herself. But, as her father used to tell her, good things can come from the bad - with some patience and a lot of hard work. _I don't think I'm going to have much patience left if this witch keeps telling puns, though._

_Although_ , Miku thought as she watched the witch laugh, _this doesn't seem all bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol "update schedule"whats that


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of my chapter ;-; I'm doing some Very Important exams atm and I haven't had chance to write much

It hit Miku at about eleven o'clock that night as she laid in bed, unable to sleep.

There was no way Luka could have killed her father.

When Miku's father had met his untimely death, Miku had been merely eleven years of age. The witch who'd been convicted of the murder was about the same age as Miku - which meant that at the time of the death, she'd have been about the same age then, too. And there was almost no way an eleven year old could have committed the crime.

Miku covered her face with her unbroken hand. What had she done?

She remembered how she'd brought her dagger down in an arc and made a great tear in the witch's - _Luka's_ \- bodice, the blood blooming from the cut. How she'd screamed and shouted and thrown insults and accusations. How she'd hissed, spat, done every hurtful thing she could think of doing to another person.

She looked down at the floor. Although in the darkness she couldn't see it, she knew how clean and tidy the floor was. Luka had spent all afternoon clearing up the shattered glass jars, broken plant pots, candles and books. Miku remembered how she'd hurled jar after jar, shards covering the floor. She remembered how Luka had stepped in them to console Miku, her feet now covered in abrasions where the broken glass had cut her.

She remembered how kind Luka had been, bandaging Miku's hand and giving her food and drink, consoling her when she was upset. And what had Miku done? Thrown a tantrum like a spoilt brat and - well, when it came down to it - attempted to _kill_ an innocent person?

It took Miku a long time to get to sleep that night. And when she finally did, her dreams were filled to the brim with pain.

* * *

 When she woke up, there was a note on the bedside table.

 _Miku,_  
_I have gone out to gather some herbs and fruit and won't be back until midday. I've left some food on the table for you._  
_-Luka._

Miku's mind had already been made up for her before she even put down the paper. She wasn't a generally nosy person, but when you're left alone in a witch's house, who can help but be curious?

And also a little creeped out, Miku noted as she eyed the dusty candles, parchments and whatnot cluttering the shelves as she made her way down the hallway to Luka's room. She wondered if Luka even had a black cat.

A high-pitched shriek rang out as that particular question was cleared up. Miku hastily backed out of the way of the black monstrosity streaking past her, wishing she'd stayed in bed. Black cats were a known harbinger of bad luck, and (unfortunately) a common familiar of witches. She let out a small squeak as the cat bared its fangs and hissed at her.

So far, her snooping had met with bad results. Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea after all. She had just decided to back out when she reached the door of what must be Luka's room. The cat at her heels, she pushed open the door and tiptoed in.

Luka's room was relatively small. It had a large bed that took up most of the space, a set of wooden drawers and a small bedside table. It didn't look like anything special. Miku let out a breath, realizing that she'd been half-expecting a room decorated with torture devices or dead bodies.

She took another step in, relieved that Luka's room was normal - perhaps even cute.

An object on the table caught her eye, and she glanced over at it. It was a book, beautifully embellished with gold thread in swirling patterns. A delicate-looking bookmark was stuck out of it, and Miku picked it up, turning to the marked page.

Her eyes widened upon seeing that day's date written at the top of the page. _It's a diary._

_Dear diary,_

_This is the first time I've had someone in this cottage. It feels strange; both like my privacy is being invaded and... well, I don't know how to describe it exactly. I feel less lonely, but at the same time I long for that loneliness._

_This is so new to me._

_I hope she stays._

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my gay fic hope u have a good ol gay time


End file.
